I also saw a V8 Triumph TR7 on the same show and decided there and then that I wanted one.
Thank Christ I found out what they were really like before actually buying one.........................
I came very, very close myself Tony. A customer of mine had a TR7 fitted with a V8 Rover engine and he was desperate to sell it. On top of the engine swap the engine was also turbocharged so being a bit game decided it might be just the thing I needed. That was until I took it for a test drive and discovered just how horrible the car was. It handled like a Morris Minor and had a lethal turbo lag that gave you a choice of nothing or 400hp...nothing in between. I politely declined the deal purely for self preservation reasons.
Now, back to normal broadcasting....1st memory of MX.
I wrote a column on this but here's a condensed version.
Growing up in Maroubra in the 60s was great for anyone interested in motorsport. A lot of speedway and road racing stars lived in the area and as kids we'd ride our pushies past these racers homes hoping to get a glimpse or even a wave from our heroes. On one of these bike journeys we were riding up Alma lane which was one of those old fashioned lanes that ran behind the houses facing the main road (Alma Road in this case) to give access to the garage and the outside dunny for the shit cart bloke. This particular day one of the garages was open and two blokes that looked like Ricky Nelson and Crash Craddock* were working on a beautiful, shiny bike that we later found out was a BSA Goldstar scrambler. The polished engine cases and glistening British Racing Green tank adorned with big BSA and Union Jack stickers really grabbed me. After sitting on our bikes watching the two rockers tightening all sorts of nuts and bolts, they pulled it off the stand and wheeled it into the lane, asking us to help them push start it. It didn't take much effort for the big Beeza to fire up and the sound of that unmuffled Goldy has stayed with me to this day. "Ricky" rode the bike to the end of the lane, turned and hammered the bike, lifting the front wheel on the first two gear changes. The bike was ridden straight into the ricketty weatherboard garage and the doors closed without another word from our new local heroes. The show was over but that 1959 experience was the seed that grew to become my involvement with old bikes today.
I only saw the Beeza once more, at 5am one Sunday morning while waiting outside St Aidans Catholic church for the priest to open the door for my 6 o'clock mass alter boy shift, an FJ ute drove by with the big green Goldy and another bike squeezed into the back, obviously on their way to some exotic scramble meeting, probably Moorbank. I often wonder what happened to "Ricky", "Crash" and that magnificent Goldy.
*
For you young folk, Ricky Nelson and Billy "Crash" Craddock were minor level pop stars who's star shone briefly in the late '50's. I referenced them purely so you'd get an idea of what the young blokes in my yarn looked like to a 9 year old in 1959 ! 
